Beyond the Beyond
by evilmanray
Summary: AU. Somehow, the reason why Alfred could never get a girl was because his soul mate happened to be a dead Briton, who had come back as a ghost. US/UK, Alfred/Arthur. One-shot.


**Title**: Beyond the Beyond

**Pairings**: US/UK (France/Canada, Russia/China mentioned briefly)

**Summary**: AU. Somehow, the reason why Alfred could never get a girl was because his soul mate happened to be a dead Briton, who had come back as a ghost. One-shot.

**Disclaimer**: I own this like how a diabetic eats cake—they don't.

**A/N**: Had to get it out. Sorry, you guys. This is so absolutely and purely stupid, so don't read it if you hate stuff like that. But… I found it humorous :)

* * *

Even though it was only a month after his brother, Matthew's, death, Alfred brought flowers to his gravestone. It was his first time visiting his Canadian counterpart ever since he was buried under the ground during the funeral. Alfred set the bouquet of roses—Francis had always given them to Matthew—on the tombstone, and could feel small tears stinging at his eyes. No, he wouldn't cry. He had to stay strong. He was the hero, after all.

"So…" Alfred stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. He sort of felt like an idiot for standing there and talking essentially to nothing, but he needed to give Matthew an update on things. "Well… things are good… I guess. Francis misses you a lot. He always gets sad when you're mentioned. You know, he won't even come visit you because he thinks he might break down, and he doesn't want you to see him cry. Weird, right? I know. You wouldn't care.

"And, um… Everyone says hi. The Vargas brothers miss seeing you in their pizzeria. Tino says he can't wait to beat you in hockey in the afterlife. You better be brushing up on your skills in heaven, Mattie!"

He laughed, but it was dry, meaningless, and sounded extremely forced.

"Anyway—"

"Who in God's name are you _talking_ to?!"

Alfred jumped high in the air and let out a squeak. He turned around, and was looking at some bushy-eyebrowed translucent figure.

_Ghost!_ Alfred's mind shouted at him.

He immediately turned and fled the graveyard.

---

Alfred sighed, kicking at some loose pebbles on the path to Matthew's grave the next week. Hopefully, his mind wouldn't conjure up that ghostly person again. He brought with him two bouquets of roses this time—one just for visiting, and the other to apologize for running away like a sissy. Heroes weren't supposed to run and scream like girls.

After placing the bouquets down on Matthew's grave next to one from the pervious week, Alfred started talking again.

"Hi, Mattie." He waved as if Matthew was standing right in front of him, and not rotting underneath his feet. "Things at home are different, and it's really getting dirty. I wish you could still clean up after me. Wow, that's a lame reason for wanting you back, but… it's true. I miss you and stuff. So does everybody else."

"And stuff?" the same voice from last week question irritably. Alfred whipped around. It was the ghost! "Don't yell bloody murder and run away again, twit. It embarrassed me to even have to watch that."

"W-What…" All words died in Alfred's throat. He was so scared. Meeting a ghost was down right piss-worthy. And it was an angry British ghost, to boot.

"Are you just going to keep standing there and gape like a fish, or are you actually going to do something?"

The ghost crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently.

"… Um… so you're a… ghost?" Alfred whispered.

"You have wonderful deduction skills." The ghost rolled his eyes. "Yes, I am an apparition, in fact. I'm Arthur Kirkland, somewhat please to meet you."

"I'm Alfred F. Jones!" Alfred puffed up his chest proudly and pointed to himself with his thumb. "I'm a hero!"

"Sure you are. God, why did I have to get stuck with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I was talking to myself. Now, come here and kiss me so we can just get this over with."

Alfred wasn't sure he head that correctly.

"… What?" he asked.

"Bloody hell, were you even listening to me?! I _said_ kiss me," Arthur demanded.

"… That's what I thought you said," Alfred stated, rubbing at his neck. "As attractive as you are," and really, Alfred thought Arthur definitely was, "I'm going to have to decline your offer. Why do I have to kiss you?"

"This graveyard is cursed," Arthur explained. "It's said that if your soul mate steps foot in the graveyard, you come back a ghost, and when you kiss, you turn back into a human. At least, that's what happened with the Russian guy when the Chinese guy visited here."

"… So… I have to kiss you to set you free?"

"Essentially, yes."

"So we're soul mates?"

"… Unfortunately."

Hmm. No wonder Alfred sucked at picking up chicks. Some British guy was his soul mate? What was this bullshit? But he couldn't deny that the ghost was handsome, eyebrows included.

"Wait!" Alfred exclaimed, snapping his fingers when the idea came to him. Why didn't he think of this sooner?! He could save Matthew! "I have to go get a French guy! You stay right here!"

"As if I could go anywhere," Arthur muttered.

"I'll be back soon! If this works, I'll shove my tongue down your throat, I promise! And I'll keep that promise, because I'm a hero!"

"… Okay."

---

Only after an hour of much persuasion did Francis agree to visit Matthew's gravesite. The car ride back to the necropolis was full of awkward silence and brooding, mostly on Francis's part. Alfred had tried to strike up some nice, friendly conversation, but apparently the Frenchman was pissed at him. Why? He didn't know. Alfred could not be disliked, even for a moment!

"Here, follow me," he said, grabbing Francis's sleeve with his hand and tugging him along the path. Francis seemed determined to make things difficult for the die-hard American, staying rooted to his spot. Alfred had to basically drag him. But he didn't mind. If what Arthur said was true, then this would bring his brother back from beyond the beyond! And then he would get to rub it in Bonnefoy's face, which was just a super awesome bonus.

"Alfred…" Francis sighed, covering his face with his free hand as they approached the headstone inscribed 'Matthew Williams'. He didn't want to see Matthew's grave. It was the reason he _avoided_ this place. "Let me go home. There's nothing for me here."

"Um, yeah, there is," Alfred disagreed automatically. "Just give it a second, okay? Start talking to him."

"He won't be able to hear. What's the point?" Francis mumbled.

Alfred balked.

"You, the most romantic person I have ever known, are denying talking to the person you love?! Fuck, man, you're standing right at my brother's gravestone. Chat up a one-sided storm!"

Talking seemed to be the trigger to get Arthur to appear.

"What am I supposed to say?" Francis asked.

"I don't know. I'm not you! Speak in French, or make lewd innuendos like you always do. You decide. Just open your mouth and make a conversation come out of it, for Christ's sake!"

Alfred was almost jumping up and down in anticipation. He couldn't wait much longer.

"Um…" The Frenchman coughed, clearing his throat. _It's just a piece of rock_, his mind reminded him. He tried not to think about the fact he and Alfred were standing on top of his love's final resting place. "Well, here goes nothing.

"Ah, _mon amour_, things are not the same without you… It's hard sleeping at night and knowing that I won't be able to see you tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. I miss you very much. I want to be able to still hold you like I did and make love to you—"

"Too much, dude," Alfred warned him. Francis shrugged.

"I was only saying the truth."

"That's great and all, but I don't want to hear about how you banged my brother."

"I assure you, it was great."

"TMI. Keep talking to Mattie, and let's keep it rated G, okay?"

"Oh, so you admit to not being mature enough to handle adult conversation, _oui_?"

"No, damn it, I—"

"Guys! S-Stop bickering!" a voice interrupted.

Alfred's heart leapt up into his throat. That was undeniably the voice of Matthew, his most precious and innocent beloved little brother! Well, maybe not so innocent anymore, if that conversation was anything to go by. He turned, and of course, there was the ghost of Matthew staring him in the face.

"_Mon dieu_…" Francis gulped.

"Mattie!" Alfred yelled, running forward and attempting to hug his most favorite family relative in the entire world. He frowned when he got an armful of air. Oh, right. His brother was a ghost.

"F-Francis?" Matthew stuttered.

"_Matthieu_?" Francis whispered disbelievingly. He rubbed at his eyes. This could _not_ be happening. "Alfred, is this why you brought me here?"

"Yep!" The American grinned. "I'm a hero, and I obviously need to save everybody. So, now all you two have to do is kiss, and then we'll get little Mattie back!"

"We have to kiss?" Francis asked. "And… then he comes back? As in, alive?"

"Really?" Matthew asked, eyes widening in delight. "What a lucky break!"

"How do you know this?" Francis seemed skeptical.

"Well…" Alfred couldn't very well tell him that his ghostly British soul mate informed him of the way to bring a person back to life. "I know this… guy who told me about the curse of this burial ground, so… yeah, kiss."

"If you insist."

Francis grabbed Matthew by the wrist (weird, how come _Francis_ could touch his brother?) and pulled him forward in a very romantic, Hollywood fashion. He dipped the Canadian down gently, and then pressed a kiss to his slightly parted lips. There was brief flash of light and a small explosion of smoke.

"_Mon amour_!" Francis gasped when all the smoke cleared, revealing a very human, but flushed, Matthew in his arms. "You're really back!"

"I am!" Matthew cheered, grinning. Francis pulled him in for another kiss, this one excruciatingly less modest, and Alfred hid his eyes behind his hands to save his own purity.

"We should all head back now, _oui_?" the Frenchman asked. "We should figure out how to deal with all the legalities of this type of thing…"

"You guys can take the car and head on without me. I have… something I need to do, first," Alfred said, tossing the other his car keys. "Just don't hurt my baby, okay?"

"Okay!" Matthew smiled. As much as Alfred wanted to follow him and hug him all night long, he had a promise to fulfill to a certain ghost. Once the two blondes were out of sight, Alfred began his search for Arthur.

"Arthur?" Alfred called. "I know you're here somewhere!"

"That… was nice of you," Arthur said, standing up from the grave his was hiding behind. He didn't want the Canadian, the Frenchman, or to American to notice him, as it was their time. "I didn't know you were going to do that when you left."

"Yeah, well, I _am_ a hero," Alfred said haughtily. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Now, come here, because I have something for you!"

"Gee, I wonder what it is," Arthur said sarcastically, but stepped toward Alfred nonetheless.

"Close your eyes," the American instructed. At Arthur's skeptical eyebrow raise, he added, "I want this to be like a corny romance movie scene, okay?"

"… A what?"

"Never mind. Just close them. It'll be awesome, I promise."

As soon as Arthur's eyelids fluttered shut, Alfred took a hold of his chin lightly and titled it upward. Oh god, was he seriously going to _kiss_ a _ghost_? No, he couldn't back out now. He leaned forward slowly, and gingerly pressing his lips to the British man's.

Light exploded behind his closed eyes, and he winced at the painful sensation. Smoke assaulted him from all ways, and he coughed almost violently. Damn it, why was it so peaceful and amorous when his brother and the Frenchman did it?! Damn it, this blew. So much for a corny romance movie scene.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," Arthur grumbled, clearing away the smoke with his now fleshy hand. He patted Alfred on the back harshly, making the American cough again. It took a moment for him to settle down, but once he did, he stared in bright, green eyes.

"So… we're soul mates?" Alfred asked hesitantly, grasping the Briton's hand with his own.

"I… I suppose so," Arthur said, a pink dusting over his cheeks. God, Alfred's heart started thumping wildly in his chest. This man was even _more_ attractive as a human. "What do we do now?"

Oh, wait. Crap. He hadn't thought that far.

"I don't know. I thought you had this whole thing planned out?"

"Alfred, I was a ghost. I haven't been a human since nineteen forty-four—"

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? I just saved your ass, dude."

"_Git_! I was going to say I forgot! I haven't had to think about anything for a long, long time!"

Alfred sighed. He didn't want to fight with his soul mate so soon.

"Okay, calm down," he instructed. "I have an idea."

"And that would be…?"

Alfred kissed Arthur again, this time upholding his promise and (with permission) shoved his tongue down Arthur's throat.

Life was good.

---

"And _that's_ how I saved the world!" Alfred concluded smugly.

Peter, apparently a descendant from Arthur's family, frowned.

"That was a stupid story," he said. "How am I supposed to know you didn't just make that up?"

"Because," Alfred said, as if it was the most obvious thing in world, "I'm a hero!"

* * *

**A/N**: Sorry to break it to you, Alfred, but that seriously was a stupid story. I can't believe I wrote that...

**Edit 3/22/10**: ... I forgot to list this as complete, but it is it! I fixed it! Forgive me. Yeah, sorry. It's over.


End file.
